সেদিন আপনার কার্টে কিছু বই রেখে কোথায় যেন চলে গিয়েছিলেন।
মিলিয়ে দেখুন তো বইগুলো ঠিক আছে কিনা?
* Bare Beginnings
* Barefoot on Metal
* Line Drawing
* Make Notes not War
* Five-point Something
* Alok Speaks
* One Year Later
* The Mice Theory
* Cooperate to Dominate
* The Gift
* Neha Speaks
* One More Year Later
* Operation Pendulum
* The Longest Day of My Life I
* The Longest Day of My Life II
* The Longest Day of My Life III
* The Longest Day of My Life IV
* The Longest Day of My Life V
* The Longest Day of My Life VI
* Ryan Speaks
* Will we Make It?
* A Day of Letters
* Meeting Daddy
* Five Point Someone
Well, to say this is my book would be totally untrue. At best, this was my dream. There are people in this world, some of them so wonderful, that made this dream become a product that you are holding in your hand. I would like to thank all of them, and in particular:
Shinie Antony - mentor, guru and friend, who taught me the basics of telling a story and stayed with me right till the end. If she hadn't encouraged and harassed me all the way, I would have given this up a long time ago.
James Turner, Gaurav Malik, Jessica Rosenberg, Ritu Malik, Tracie Ang, Angela Wang and Rimjhim Chattopadhya-amazing friends who read the manuscript and gave honest comments. All of them also stayed with me in the process, and handled me and my sometimes out-of-control emotions so well.
Anusha Bhagat - a wife who was once a classmate, and was the first reader of the draft. Apart from being shocked by some of the incidents in the book, she kept her calm as she had to face the tough job of improving the product and not upsetting her husband.
My mom Rekha Bhagat and brother Ketan, two people with an irrational, unbreakable belief in me that bordered on craziness at times. My relationship with them goes beyond the common genes we share, and I, like every author, needed their irrational support for me.
My IIT friends Ashish (Golu), Johri, VK, Manu, Shanky, Pappu, Manhar, VR Rahul, Mehta, Pago, Assem, Rajeev G., Rahul, Lavmeet, Puneet, Chapar and all others. This is a work of fiction, but fiction needs real inspiration. I love them all so much that I could literally write a book on them. Hey wait, have I? My friends in Hong Kong, my work colleagues, my yoga teachers and others that surround me, love me and make life fun.
The editor and the entire team at Rupa for being so professional and friendly through the process. And lastly, it is only when one writes a book that one realizes the true power of MSWord, from grammar checks to replace-alls. It is simple - without this software, this book would not be written. Thank you Mr Bill Gates and Microsoft Corp!
I had never been inside an ambulance before. It was kind of creepy. Like a hospital was suddenly asked to pack up and move. Instruments, catheters, drips and a medicine box surrounded two beds. There was hardly any space for me and Ryan to stand even as Alok got to sprawl out. I guess with thirteen fractures you kind of deserve a bed. The sheets were originally white, which was hard to tell now as Alok’s blood covered every square inch of them. Alok lay there unrecognizable, his eyeballs rolled up and his tongue collapsed outside his mouth like an old man without dentures. Four front teeth gone, the doctor later told us. His limbs were motionless, just like his father's right side, the right knee bent in a way that would make you think Alok was boneless. He was still, and if I had to bet my money, I'd have said he was dead. “If Alok makes it through this, I will write a book about our crazy days. I really will,” I swore. It is the kind of absurd promise you make to yourself when you are seriously messed
up in the head and you haven't slept for fifty hours straight...
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